


Forgiveness

by Male5574



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction, zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: Boat voyage, Cheating, Explicit Sex, F/M, Gay, India, M/M, Mean Harry, Miserable Harry, Mpreg, Rich Harry, Underage - Freeform, Underage Sex, servant zayn, zayn!mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-11-18 10:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Male5574/pseuds/Male5574
Summary: “So, it is true! The servant boy is with child, gentlemen!”His father was laughing, hard. Everyone was laughing, everyone else but Harry. In stead he brought the whiskey glass to his lips and swallowed the liqure in one go. He had no reason to laugh. No reason at all.





	1. Chapter 1

The smoke was heavy in the room, hanging in the air making it difficult to see across the pokertable. It was a gentleman thing, and Harry knew that. When he had first started smoking at the age of 13, because his father had insisted that he should become a proper man, the smoke had made him lungs cramp and caused awful coughing. Now, 14 years later the smoke seemed comforting. It would provide a white veil behind which he could hide.

The room was too full of loud, booming male voices pretending to have a good time while the men they belonged to gamled away parts of their fortunes. They would do this every saturday when the working week was ending and they could not stand another moment with their miserable wives. 

Much to his farther’s disappointment Harry himself was not much of a gambler. He did not enjoy poker, black jack or any other godforsaken game these men would make him participate in, but like any other aboard the ship, Harry knew how to pretend.

The dealer, who was normally a deck worker, was doing his best dealing the cards when Lord Styles, Harry’s father, stormed into the smoke filled room his voice outshouting any other. 

“So, it is true! The servant boy is with child, gentlemen!” 

An unsympathic grin spread across his father’s face as Harry felt every nerve in his body tense. 

“Which boy, Sir?” Another man shouted across the room. 

“The dark skinned one. The Paki!” 

His father was laughing, hard. Everyone was laughing, everyone else but Harry. In stead he brought the whiskey glass to his lips and swallowed the liqure in one go. He had no reason to laugh. No reason at all.

—

Harry stumbled across the high stairs to the cabin cursing because his head was spinning. He knew he should not come here, but when he felt the warm hands on his chest supporting him he knew that he could not leave. 

“You’re drunk.” 

The voice was small and Harry had to look at him. He had to see him. He had to have him. The dark eyes looked right back at him. Maybe they held a concerned look Harry could not tell. 

“So beautiful you are.” 

Harry reached for the white night blouse which was covering his dark skin, hiding it from Harry. He knew that this was his right. This boy was his and he could claim him whenever he wanted to. 

“You’re drunk.” 

The small voice repeated itself, but he did not move an inch. He knew it too. He knew that Harry could take him when he wanted to, and God, how Harry wanted to. 

No more words were spoken after Harry pulled the white fabric over the young boy’s head. His exotic body once again exposed to Harry’s gaze, his sharp collarbones, the smoothness and purity of his skin. His chest was raising and falling hard when Harry crashed his hungry lips against the boy’s. Harry needed him more than oxygen, he was sure of it. 

For the first time in weeks Harry touched the boy’s addicting skin. Grabbed the root of the back of his neck harshly trying to bring him even closer, making it easier for himself to devour the young boy. A sudden pain grew strong in the middle of his chest. It was crushing his ribcage from the inside as he let his hands run down the boy’s back finding the familiar curve of his behind. Harry longed for it, for the delicate place of the boy’s body which his smooth ass cheeks were hiding so nicely. It was where Harry belonged. This boy was his home. 

The younger one was starting to respond to his desire and loosing up to him. He knew what would come after this, they both knew, but for now Harry licked into the other mouth, squeezed the soft ass uderneath his palms and tried to maintain himself as much as possible, but it seemed hopeless. In a moment of desperation he let go of the young boy’s soft lips and whispered out of breath, “undress me.”

The brown eyes looked at him again. They were sparkling with something this times, desire maybe. When the smaller boy closed his eyes the delicate lashes caressed the skin of his sharp cheekbones and Harry wanted to lay kisses there. He wanted to lay kisses everywhere on the boy’s body. He let go of a sigh he did not know he was holding when he felt warm hands starting to undo his dresspants. 

When the dresspants fell to the ground, Harry took a step forward to close the space between them again. The boy had the sweetest lips he had ever taste, and he craved his kisses like a thirsty man craved water in the desert.

“Can’t you see what you do to me.”

Harry knew he was mumbling into the other mouth, but he also knew that the younger one had heard it. He knew that the boy knew, and he felt it when the reply was given as a gentle tuck on his aching manhood that stood hard and exposed between them. 

Harry had all the best intentions to get both of them ready and make sure he would not rush it, but he could not. He could not wait. He was a starved man, and he needed to grab the younger boy by his hips, dig his fingers into the skin as he would carry him to the small study table in the corner of the cabin to sit the boy down on top of it. So he did. 

The dark eyes looked at him again. He knew the look in them, it was sadness, but he could not care for him at the moment. He needed to comfort himself before he could comfort the other one, so he grabbed the waistband of the white underwear and pulled them off. Leaving the boy naked and exposed for his own eyes to take all of him in. He still wore a shirt and bow tie himself, but he   
was in too much of a hurry to remove it. Instead he grabbed the boy’s hips again and pulled him to the tip of the table and positioned himself between the spread out legs. 

This boy in front of him was his comfort, and as he sank into him he understood why. 

Harry knew he was hurting him, causing him pain. He could tell by the way the sharp nails scratched into his back and the grunts that were released into his ear, but he felt too good himself. Satisfied for the first time in many weeks. He could not stop even if he wanted to. 

He tried to calm the boy down by kissing his lips and caressing his hair and cheek with one hand as the other one held onto the hips harshly to help himself reach a sufficient rythme as he thrusted into the distressed boy, but it did not help. He could taste the salty tears when he kissed the cheeks. He could hear the whimpers, but he could not stop. 

“It’s over... Soon... God... Put your legs ‘round me.” 

The boy did what he told him to do and when Harry put his arms around the smaller one and clung him to his own body he felt some of the disstress leave the other body. 

“Shhh...” 

Maybe the hushing was more of a promise end than a way to make the boy feel better. Anyhow, Harry felt his climax catching up on him sooner than he wanted it, but he could not deny himself the pleasure and postpone it. 

He grabbed the short, black hair harshly as he started thrusting almost violently into the sweet creature who was now completely wrecked against him. And then he felt it, the sweet orgasm only this particular boy could give him. Only this boy clentched that way around him when he relased into him and only this boy would forgive him. 

He stayed there for a while completely still with the boy’s heavy body against his own. He could feel the wet tears on his neck as the boy silently cried against him with his head hidden away from the rest of the world. But he could not let the the boy stay this way. They both knew what had to be done, so Harry eventually pulled out and away from his lover. 

There he was. The exotic boy whom Harry knew so well and was so unfamiliar with. Sitting on a dark oak tree table, looking completely detached from the world Harry knew. His dark eyes were swollen from crying, cheeks wet with tears. His body was sweaty and between his legs white semen formed a small patch. Harry found him beautiful even in this situation. 

“Why haven’t you told me?” 

“I haven’t known for long.”

“The whole damm ship knows!” 

Harry did not mean for it to turn out this way, but he felt empty. He felt his chest clunch when he saw the boy flench trying to cover himself up from his lover with his thin arms. 

“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, but everytime I saw you...” 

The boy stopped short and gave him that look of sadness and then continued. 

“What difference does it make that I’m carrying your child?” 

“It makes no difference, absolutely none.” Harry could tell that his own voice was loud and harsh. “You think I want that bastard? I want nothing to do with it! Nothing! You’re not getting a penny of mine to raise it. If it were up to me you had that removed when we get to India. You’re lucky I let you keep it.” 

How he hated that look on the boy’s face. He hated how he would bite his sweet lips and how his eyebrows would slightly shoot up. The way he looked at the ground and held himself with his arms, comforting himself. Harry wanted to hold him, to comfort him, but he could not. He was dying inside. He was being eaten up by expectations, norms and traditions. He could not love this boy or the child he was carrying. He was not allowed. 

“How can you say that?” The boy whispered. “We made love.” 

“You stupid boy. I do not love you.“ 

The boy did not respond. He was too smart for that. He just sat there on the table where Harry had taken him just minutes ago silently crying. He still wasn’t looking at Harry, and now Harry could not stand looking at the fragil creature anymore either. He needed to get out. To get away, but how could he escape from a ship? 

Desperately he found his dresspants and put them back on. He had turned his back to the boy, but he could tell that he had gotten off the table. When Harry turned around the smaller one stood right in front of him with a wild look in his eyes. 

“Say my name.”

But Harry was unable to. The boy did not understand him, he did not understand why he stopped saying his name. He would not be able to understand the pain this single name caused him. 

“Say it!” 

The young boy’s voice broke.

“Say my name like you used to. Say it the same way you did when you were inside me. You know it. You know my name. SAY IT!” 

Hard fists were punching into Harry’s chest as the boy once again was crying, loudly this time, desperately. His small frame was trembling as he kept punching his frustration onto Harry’s chest, who could not make himself move. He did not know what to do. What to say to help the boy. The boy was pregnant and he would have a child sooner than he was prepared for. Harry himself, on the other, had another faith, other things were expected of him. 

Finally Harry seemed to snap out of his trance and grabbed the boys wrists harshly. 

“That’s enough.” 

“Why won’t you? Why don’t you want me?” 

The voice was broken. The sharp cheekbones completely wet from tears under Harry’s gaze. He could not think of an answer. He had none. In stead he let go of the boy and went to the door, unlocking it and stepping outside in the cold watery wind not looking back as he closed the door behind him. 

He just stood there in front of the door. Inhaling and exhaling deeply. Not sure what to do with himself.

“Zayn...” He whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Even before he opened his eyes to face the consequences of last night he could feel the pulz pounding in his forehead. The bright daylight was playing with his eyelids making him want to choke himself with the covers. 

The bedside next to him stirred and her arms felt warm around his upperbody. The kisses on the back of his shoulder reminded him of the lips he had been kissing last night. Soon the boy would swell up and visibly carry Harry’s child. His first born. The paki family would not be able to provide for the child he knew that much. 

“Good morning my love.”

Her breath was warm against his neck. He patted her soft hand on his shoulder. 

“Morning darling.” He heard himself murmur as he felt the bed stirr again and his wife move closer. Her hand moved to the front of his upper body where it caressed his chest and played with the small patch of hair there. 

“Enjoyed last night?” 

“Yeah... The usual saturday evening.” 

She hummed lowly. “I can think of something else you might enjoy.” 

He could feel her smile on the back of his neck as her hand moved downwards. Not a single nerve stirred in his body as a reaction to the touch of his wife and so he grabbed her wrist probably harder than necessary. 

“Not now, Audrey. Got a head ache.” 

She sighed loudly and moved away from him to find her own side of the bed again. 

“I’m never going to be with child if this keeps up. There’s always some reason why you don’t want to and now even the servant boy has a bun in the oven. Can you imagine how humiliating that is? I’m a woman at my best age, Harry!” 

His heart started pounding by the mention of the boy. 

“What does the servant has to do with anything?” 

Audrey sighed again. “Honestly Harry, how can you even ask such a thing? The boy is only a child of age, unmarried and male. People judge women like me when we’re a year into a marriage and still haven’t provided an heir. I’ll be compared to some insignificant paki for God’s sake! And you don’t even care.” 

Harry wished he’d just shot her voice out, but he heard every spoken word and they all wheighed down his shoulders, but that was his burden. It was his private burden and he was not going to acknowledge the situation by answering his wife. 

After a while Audrey seemed to give up and so she left the bed and Harry. It wasn’t difficult for the curly haired man to fall back into a restless slumber. What was difficult was for him to finally get out of bed when his wife’s loud voice demanded that he’d pulled himself together and act like a decent gentleman. They were to have breakfast with Sir and Lady Styles and she sure was not intending to be late for that. 

They were late, however, and Sir Styles made sure to comment on the fact. 

“I do expect you to be here on time when we have made a multual agreement on which time was suitable. How do you expect to run the company with such an unfortunate attitude?” 

His father’s voice was deadly serious. It always carried a certain low pit to it when the man was particularly disappionted in his heir. Like now. Like always. The Lord took a long drag of his Cuban cigar and then characteristically ran his thumb across his moustache. 

“I apologise, father. I’m afraid last night had gotten the better of me.” 

“I expect more of you.” 

Of course Harry was aware that his father expected more of him, and of course he was aware that he was a disappointment. A disappointment that had often effected the Lord’s poor heart as his mother would say. 

Lady Styles sat beside her husband as always. Her bony fingers were carefully holding the tea cup. She did not look up. She rarely looked up at her son. 

“Mr. Payne has some interesting propositions to make about the business in India. I take it you’ll see to that.” 

It wasn’t a question. Harry nodded. 

The dining room was slowly filling up. Voices were buzzing everywhere and Harry knew that if he was lucky he’d get a glimpse of the exotic boy here and there when the guests would spill their tea on the expensive carpet. 

That was how he’d met the boy in the first place. Audrey had knocked a vase with flowers off a table in one of her many bad moods and there had been called for a servant boy. After breakfast Harry had left the dining room to find the boy and he had pursauded the younger one to take him to his cabin. Harry had supposed that the servants did that all the time. It had turned out that the boy had never been taken by a man before and he was crying when Harry had finished. Harry had not felt anything that pleasurable for years and so he had promised to care for the boy, and he made sure that the boy understood that he now belonged to him, and only him. That was a while ago. The boy had shed many tears because of Harry since then. 

When Harry’s attention went back to the room he was in he found his mother and wife engaged in a conversation about another Lady’s distasteful morning attire. His father was busy reading the news paper and sucking on his almost dead cigar. 

The rest of Harry’s noon continued as slowly has his morning had. By the end of the noon he found himself on the deck by the railing looking at the gigantic ocean. 

The brize was warm against the sweat on his forehead and his hands were sticky. As he took a drag on his cigarette he wondered what the ocean would say if it could speak, which stories it would tell. He himself could speak, but he had nothing to tell. 

“Styles!” 

Liam Payne’s loud voice was easy to recognise anywhere. Harry did not have to turn around to know that a serious look was plastered to the dark-featured face, so he kept staring at the ocean. It seemed much more interesting to him than his life. 

“I’ve spoken to your father.” Payne continued when he stood beside Harry. “An advantageous deal has been made on the machines in India. Is that something you wish to be engaged in?” 

Harry was right. Payne looked like his serious self. He was a handsome man, indeed, but very masculine. His dark gaze seemed to be drilling into Harry’s own. 

“Is it already settled?”

“Yes, your father agreed.” 

“I see no reason why I should get engaged then. Do you?” 

Payne shook his head and looked at the ocean. 

“You seem to be engaged in enough affairs as it is.” 

“What‘s that supposed to mean?” 

Payne looked back at him and took a step closer. The man was very close, too close in Harry’s opinion. 

“I suppose I should congratulate you.” A strange smile spread across the dark face, “you know, on the pregnancy.” 

“Audrey is not expecting.” 

“Oh, Styles...” Payne was laughing. “We both know I’m not talking about that lovely wife of yours.”

Harry swallowed. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No? I saw you. I saw you with the paki around your hips. He was getting it hard from what I could tell. Is that how he likes it?” 

An explotion happened inside Harry. Everything turned white for a split second as his pulz raised to unthinkable dimensions. He wanted to beat off the smile on Payne’s face. Wanted to distroy the bastard. 

“Not a single word will be spoken about this! Do you understand!?” 

The humiliation crept down his spine as Payne put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“No worries, Styles. Your secret is safe with me...” The smile returned, “at least as long as you give me the job as your right-hand manager.” 

“Are you blackmailing me, Payne?” 

“Just making a friendly proposition, Styles.” 

“You son of a bitch!” Harry hissed knowing that he had no other option than to obey. 

The man squeezed his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you can see the sense in this as well.” Payne took a deep breath. “Well now, I have other things to attend to so I’m afraid I must leave. It was nice chatting with you, Styles. You’re a true gentleman.” 

With that Payne turned on his heels and wandered off like nothing had happened. Harry’s eyes found the ocean again. For how long he stood by the railing staring into nothing. He wasn’t sure for how long he stood there, but eventually he noticed that the deck began to empty out, people going inside for supper, he assumed, so he followed. 

At the supper table things had been a lot like the at breakfast. Audrey was moody, annoyed by Harry’s absence he supposed. His father was talking about the business and his mother was staring at her food. 

Whenever he got a chance he’d steal a glimpse of his boy who stood in the corner of the large dining room ready to clean up whatever the wealthy people would spill that evening. Sometimes he caught the boy looking back at him, but every time the dark eyes would avoid his gaze. Harry wanted to do unspeakable things to the boy right then and there, and it did not take long for him to decide that he was going to the boy’s cabin later in the evening. 

When they had finished supper Audrey had insisted that they should retreat to their room. When the wife had gotten settled with her embroidery Harry found a book to make himself look busy with something. 

“Do you think India is a suitable place to raise our children?” 

“Audrey, honestly. Let us not worry about that before it is a fact.” 

“For how long do you suppose we’ll live there?” 

“For however long my father and the company need us to. You know that my job will be requiring most of my time and attention.” 

Audrey sighed and returned to her needlework in silence. 

“I need fresh air.” 

Harry left the room without paying any mind to his wife’s answer. He did not care what she had to say, he only cared about getting to the small cabin as fast as possible. 

The boy greeted him by speaking his name when he entered the dark room. He held a book in his delicate hands as he was seated on the small bunk. 

“How are you?” Harry heard himself say and he was as shocked by his caring question as the boy seemed to be. 

“I... Well, I’m fine.” There was a pause as the slim fingers fumbled with the book. “I do get sick.” 

“Yes, I can imagine.” 

Harry stood there in the middle of the tiny cabin not really knowing what to do about himself. Zayn didn’t seemed to know what to do about him either. 

“Aren’t you going to let me sit?” Harry asked gesturing towards the bunk where the boy sat. The exotic boy nodded, and sooner than he’d planned to Harry found himself all over the boy already having undressed both of them. 

“You looked so lovely in the dining room today.” Harry whispered as he laid kisses down the boy’s neck. “You drive me insane.” 

The boy did not respond, not to his confession nor to his touches. He would care, but his groin was aching for release. 

“Spread your legs for me”. Harry whispered and for a breif moment he looked at the boy’s face and saw something he had not seen before. 

“No.” The boy whispered. 

Harry’s breath got caught in his throat as he stopped short. 

“What?” 

“I don’t want to.”

Zayn was looking directly into his eyes. The boy seemed determinded, so grown up all of a sudden. 

“You come here whenever you feel like it. You don’t care about me, you don’t care about my life. You put a child in me and you use me, but you don’t care.” 

“I do care.” 

“Stop lying to me.” 

“Listen, if this is about last night I’m sorry. I had been drinking, you know that.” 

“Are you sorry like the hundreds of other times you were sorry?” 

“Stop this madness.” 

A sudden sarcastic laugh escaped the boy’s mouth and he sat up as he moved away from Harry. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I don’t just have myself to think about any longer.” 

“It’s my child too.” 

“You don’t care for it.” 

“You don’t know how I feel.” 

“No, I don’t, but I know how I feel and this has to stop.” 

Harry swallowed. For the first time Zayn had said something he didn’t know how to respond to. He knew he was staring at the boy, at his sharp cheekbones, his slim nose and his dark eyes. The look in his eyes held something Harry had not seen before. His heart was suddenly hurting. 

“Go back to your wife, Harry... You’re not welcome here any longer.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry did go back to his wife. In fact he went back to her for so long that he now spent the days behind his oak desk in the study while his wife sat on the porch in front of their new house In India.

It had been comfertable and easy for the couple to move into their new home which had already been decorated. With the butler, maids and kitchen staff in the house Harry found that he and Audrey had less to worry about, but more battles to fight against each other. 

The woman was still broody and Harry had realised that he had no other option than to carry out his marital obligations. So far the couple had not been lucky and despite his wife’s now non-exciting good mood, Harry was quite pleased with the childless situation. 

Harry had enough to worry about concerning the business anyway. There had been quite a fuss when the machines that Mr Payne so advantageously had bought had arrived. It turned out that the prize was low for a reason and Lord Styles was not pleased to say the least. Fortunately for Mr Payne the old man seemed to have grown quite fund of the young gentleman who was now in the working as Harry’s right hand manager. 

Harry had hated the fact that he was to work with the same man who had blackmailed him, but when he found out that Zayn had been hired as a maid in the Payne’s household, he started playing his cards differently. Because of the business and growing bond between their wives Harry was aware that he would be able to see the boy on a frequent basis. 

That evening was the first time Harry saw Zayn in months. He was not sure what he had expected, but for himself to choke on the expensive and very French redwine when the boy entered the dining room was not it. Despite the obvious pregnancy in the middle of his upperbody the boy looked thinner and more tired. 

Harry was not sure if Zayn did his best to ignore his presence or if the boy simply did not care, but he told himself that option number 1 was a better choice, at least for the sake of his heart. 

One glass of expensive redwine had turned into many by the time the company had withdrawn to the comfertables couches in the small, green living room. 

The women were busying themselves with a game of bridge as Payne and Harry were smoking cigars and drinking stronger alcohol than the wine they had for supper. 

Harry did not care much for the company, but seemed to only be interested in laying eyes on the stomach that provided evidens for the fact that he was indeed becoming a father. 

Payne seemed to have caught up on Harry’s obvious interest and said, “he’s been seeing a whole lot to the neighbour’s cook. A fine lad, if you ask me.” 

“What?” 

“The neighbour’s cook, some lad from Ireland.” 

“What about him?” 

“Good lord, Styles... He’s spending time with your boy.” 

Harry caught himself gazing towards his wife who was luckily still busy play bridge with Mrs. Payne. 

“What kind of time?” 

Payne laughed. 

“How’d I know?” 

“Well, he’s your servant. Keep an eye on him.” Harry hissed and took a large swig of his rum. 

“I don’t own him.” Payne’s dark eyes was looking at him. “Neither do you.” 

They sat quietly for a while smoking their cigars and watching their wives. Harry found himself trying hard not to leave the room and cause a scene elsewhere from the knowledge Payne provided him. He just sat there with a pounding heart and a racing mind that imagined all sorts of scenarios in which he would make the Irish cook understand that he should go back to where he came from. 

“Besides...” Payne said, “he’s going to need someone to provide for the child.” 

The fact that Payne was right and had said something Harry did not know how to respond to only added volume to his irritation. 

How he wished that Audrey had been anything remotely similiar to the life-long companion Harry deep inside had pictured. Zayn was not anything like that either, but he was male and that was a start. 

Truth being told, Harry supposed that the more he had heard the boy talk about his hopes for the future and seen the sparkle in his brown eyes, he had been gradually more fascinated by the words, the mental pictures and the boy himself. 

He wondered if the child would hold the same kind of spirit and how much it would resemble himself. He would lay awake at night trying to imagine what the child would look like at certain ages depending on it’s gender. Of course he would take great pride in a boy as his first-born child, but only time could tell. That was if the exotic boy would ever let him come anywhere the child.

“Harry? Darling, I think it’s time.” 

He had not heard Audrey’s voice before she gently shook his shoulder. They were all looking at him, expecting him to end the evening. 

“Yes. Yes, of course. It has been a pleasure.” Harry said and stood up to shake Payne’s hand and lay a kiss on Mrs. Payne’s. 

“I’ll see you on monday, Styles.”

“I will call for Ms. Adams to show you out.” Mrs. Payne said and rushed to the door to call for the maid. 

The corridor through the Payne’s house was impressively long and decorated with exotic pieces that held absolutely no value to the couple much like the pieces in Harry’s own house. 

“Oh...” Harry exclaimed and laid a hand on his chest getting both his Wife’s and the maid’s attention. 

“I’m afraid I left my pocket watch in the dining room. Let me go back to get it, and please miss, just help my wife out. I’ll manage.” 

He quickly turned on his heels without waiting for an answer, something he rarely waited for with Audrey. 

Harry was not sure which way lead to the kitchen and he felt relieved when a maid appear. 

“Excuse me miss!”

“Yes sir?” 

“I...” and then it dawned on him that he was not sure what excuse he was going to use. “Ehm... Well, I was told that I should speak to the exotic boy about... The preparation for my stay here in the house next week.” 

“Oh, but he usually doesn’t deal with that sort of business. Are you sure you’re not supposed to talk to Mr. Moore, sir?” 

“I’m sure the boy was whom I was told to speak to.” 

“Alright, sir. Let me show you to the library and then I’ll find Mr. Malik for you, sir.” 

The library turned out to be a medium-sized room with dark-green walls, a small couch and tall bookshelves all full of old-looking books. A petroleum lamp gave the room a dump light and a small window with heavy curtains was the only decoration in the room. 

It did not take long before Zayn entered the room. Though it had only been a short while since Harry had last seen him he seemed be astonished by his beauty. 

“I thought you’d gone home.” The boy said. 

“I’m about to, but I have to talk to you.” 

“What about?” 

“Mr. Payne told me you’ve been seeing someone.” 

“What?”

“Have you?” 

Zayn gave him a strange look. Something seemed to be bothering him though Harry felt quite certain he was the one who was in his right to be bothered. 

“Why would Mr. Payne tell you that?” 

“Just answer me.” 

Harry felt his pulz rise. 

“Listen, if you’re not going to answer me, I’m not going to answer you. Then I might as well go back to my duties.” 

“Very well. He knows the child is mine.” 

“Oh God...” 

The boy seemed to instinctly respond to the mention of the child by putting a hand on top of the bump. How Harry wished it was his hand.

“Did you tell him?” 

“Of course not, he had seen us on the ship. I’ve dealt with that situation.” 

“I’m sure you have.” 

They stood quietly for a short while, a short while that seemed like ages to Harry. The boy was beautiful and so pregnant. If things had been the same way they always had he would have had his way with the boy right then and there, but then he remembered. 

“Are you seeing someone?” 

“Who I see or don’t see is none of your business, Harry.” 

“It is very much my business. I need to know that whoever you intend to welcome into the life of my child is decent.” 

“And because he is someone who cares about me and actually takes interest in me as a human being, he is not?” 

“Takes interest in you?” Harry snorted. “He’s hardly interested in you.” 

“Whatever he’s interested in seems to mean that he treats me better than you ever did, so I can hardly complain.” 

“He’s not laying as much as a finger on you. Do you hear me!?” 

Harry heard his own voice crumble as he grabbed the boy’s upperarms to make him understand, to literally shake some sense into him.

“What is it that you want from me?” 

Zayne was looking into his eyes and their bodies were so close. He had not been this close to the boy for many weeks, months even. Their chests seemed to be raising and falling in unison. 

Harry looked down at the bump. It was the closest he had ever been to touching it. He felt like even if he wanted to stop himself and not reach out, he could not. 

The bump was surprisingly firm under his warm palms. He moved his hans a bit at first to feel all of it properly. After a while he suddenly felt something hard push against his hand. 

He looked a Zayn who finally had that soft look on his face Harry knew so well. 

“What...?” 

“The baby kicked. It does that sometimes when I touch it too.” 

“Oh...” 

A lump was forming in Harry’s throat and he had to blink his eyes a few extra times. 

“Can I kiss you?” He heard himself say. A moment passed before Zayn slightly nodded his head. 

The boy’s lips felt the same as they always had, they were soft, warm and they were home. 

Harry gently caressed the boy’s face before putting his hands in the black hair to deepen the kiss. The young boy seemed keen on following his lead, and when they parted for a short moment Harry heard himself sigh from the feeling of the kiss. 

After a while of kissing and innocently touching each other Harry felt like his whole body was about to explode. He knew that he had been away for much longer than he should and that they were running out of time, so he made sure to get rid of the clothes that covered their lower bodies in a hurry. 

He carried the boy to the couch around his hips and sat down. With glossy eyes his exotic boy sank down onto his aching manhood and after a moment he started moving his hips like only he could. 

Harry’s hands found the firm bump again and soon he felt himself nearing his climax. In a moment of extacy his right hand found the boy’s hard shaft and started stroking it messily. 

The boy was so pretty like that, about to orgasm and full of Harry’s first born. As he came into Harry’s hand Harry felt himself follow lead and for a few seconds he was completely detached from the world as he came inside his boy. 

They sat still for a while staring at each other. 

“I have to leave.” Harry suddenly said and not another word was spoken as they got dressed and left the room. 

With a racing heart Harry hurried down the long corridor feeling much like it had never happened. His mood instantly fell as he saw his wife waiting for him. 

“Don’t ask.” Was the only explanation he offered her. 

The following night Harry took his wife anally. She did not insist on having intercourse for a long time after that.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was burning him up. It was tearing his skin apart and boiling his bone marrow. Harry was sick of the sun, the heat, and he was sick of India. 

His new best companion had became scotch on the rocks, a friendship that had envolved gradually throughout the past few months.

Of course, he knew that he was drunk. Drunk at work, drunk at home - drunk all the time. His father officially detested him after he crashed an important meeting being under the influence of the stotch. If that was not enough Audrey’s usual unappealing self had not become more attractive. 

The never ending days blurred together and passed in a mass of mixed impressions which caused sweat on Harry’s forehead. 

Mr. Payne was killing him at work insisting that they should do this and that because the old man apparently still talked to Payne. By now it was Payne and Lord Styles who ran the company while Harry stayed at home more often than not to lay in bed with the curtains down and a bottle of scotch in his hand. 

One day Audrey had insisted that he should accompany her on her noon shopping trip to the nearest market. 

With greasy hair, an awful breath and hardly any will to live Harry had gotten out of bed and was now dragging himself through the foodmarket next to his wife. A few months back he would have cared that people were staring and talking about him, but even his reputation was indifferent to him now. 

As they had stopped to buy apples Harry spotted another white man amongst the natives. His blonde hair was bright and his blue shirt hang loosely on his upperbody. He was speaking, what Harry assumed, was Indian. The blonde’s smile was annoyingly charismatic and just when Harry was about to turn his back on the strange man his exotic boy stood right next to the man. 

A million thoughts shot through Harry’s brain in that moment: why he had failed to notice the boy in the first place, the pregnancy that was growing on him, his beauty, his errands, the other man. Suddenly it was crystal clear: the blonde was the next-door cook Payne had been telling him about. 

Instinctive anger ran through his whole body and if his wife had not interrupted the moment it had been difficult to predict what he would have done. 

“What’s wrong?” He heard her say. He did not bother to answer and the next thing he knew Zayn and the cook was heading in the opposite direction. 

If there was one thing Harry was not going to take lightly, it was the fact that the birth-giver of his first born child had abandoned him for some low-life Irish cook. 

At first it seeemed most appealing to him to beat the cook up and make him regret he the day he was born, but after some days of considering his possibilities Harry realised that that would never make Zayn feel the same feelings he had felt when he saw them. He needed the boy to feel the jealousy, the anger and the betrail. 

His plan was quite simple, really, he was going to fake a happy marriage. 

The plan was easy enough to act out all he had to do was to give his wife a bit of his attention, a few compliments and hide his drinking. It was ridiculous how little it took to make the woman forget about years of misery. 

Harry had her exactly where he wanted her when she sat next to him to the celebration of the company’s success in India. 

Lord Styles and his wife were there, Mr and Mrs Payne, business associates and Zayn as a servant. The boy stood heavily pregnant in the corner across the room from where Harry was seated. It was perfect. It meant that the boy could see everything he intended him to see. 

Audrey’s mood had been marvellous all day and it seemed to be peeking around the dinner table. She spoke to people, smiled and even laughed with her head slightly tilted back. Harry made sure to give her attention, listen to her conversations and join in, lay an arm around her shoulders, whisper compliments into her ear and even kiss her cheek and forehead once in a while. 

The wine was splendid that evening, but it wasn’t until Harry got up to find the restroom, that he realised he had had too much and somehow, probably on purpose, he ended up in the kitchen. 

The kitchen was a mess, but surprisingly empty at that moment except for the blonde cook. 

“So you’re him... The neighbour’s cook.” Harry stated rather than asked. 

The blonde seemed surprised by the strange voice at first, but laughed effortlessly when he had detected the source of the voice. 

“Niall’s the name, sir.” The cook spoke in a thick Irish accent. 

“Niall...” Harry said to taste the name, but he did not continue. 

“Is there a problem with the food, sir?” 

“No, the food’s perfectly fine.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” The Irish smiled and stirred in a pan. 

“There’s a problem with you, though.” 

“I beg you a pardon, sir?” 

For the first he was looking directly at Harry, and all Harry could think was how friendly he looked. It annoyed him to no end.

“I said...” Harry move into the kitchen closer to the cook. “There’s a problem with you.” 

“What’s the problem, sir?” 

“You stay away from him, do you hear me?” 

“From who, sir?”

Harry swallowed and felt his pulz raise. 

“From the boy. From Zayne.” 

For a moment the cook looked like he had no clue what or who Harry was talking about until a stof expression ran over his face. 

“Oh... But don’t you think it’s up to Zayn to decide who he wants to spend time with?” 

Harry did not answer. He did not know what to say. 

“I mean...” the blonde continued, “you clearly think he’s old enough to give birth to your child. Then he must be old enough to choose his own friends.” 

Harry realised afterwards that he should not have punched the cook in the face. The bloody nose did nothing good for anyone, and perhaps on any other day Harry would have been enough of a gentleman to help the guy, but he found himself storming out of the hot kitchen and back to the dinner table. 

He spared his wife no affection whatsoever afterwards and he did not join in any conversations. He did not know whether or not his pregnant lover was in the room for the rest of the evening, he only knew that he ended up being drunker than usual. The evening passed in a blur and it was not until Zayn confronted him about what had happened in the kitchen, that Harry even knew he himself was actually present at the celebration. 

“Have you completely lost your mind!?” 

If the room had not been spinning that much Harry probably would have reacted to the situation a lot faster, but it simply did not seem very important nor interesting to discuss. 

“Ohh, come ooon little silly boy. Just having a nice... a nice evening.” 

Zayn sighed deeply. 

“We could go somewhere... You and me. Have some fun. Just us.” The words were spilling out of Harry’s mouth. 

“Harry, you’re drunk.”

“Indeed, I am. Because you... You just rip my aching heart out of my chest to play with it.” 

Zayn stood completely still for a long while. 

“And what about you? I have seen the way you were with your wife all evening.” 

“You think I don’t care? I put that child in you. It happened... it happened because of... You know what, and you just give all of what’s mine away. You don’t love me.” 

Harry did not realise much in that moment. He did not realise what he was saying, how Zayn were looking at him or that he would regret it when being sober.

“...You don’t love me like I love you.” Harry said and left his lover and the party. 

The next day he woke up late to an empty house having no idea where Audrey was. Not that he cared. The only thing he did care about was his head ache. 

The days continued being a blur, a grey mass Harry had absolutely no interest in. It was not until a couple of weeks later when he heard loud voices coming from the living room in the middle of the night, that he seemed to wake up from his excistential slumber. 

“For the love of God! What is going on in there?” Harry shouted while storming into the livingroom only to find a red-headed cook, the Irish lad, bent forward gasping for air. 

“This... Man refuses to leave!” Audrey half way yelled while standing next to the blonde looking more displeased that usual. 

“I...” the Irish said between gasps for air, “it’s Zayn... He’s in... birth...” the lad stood up properly with a wild look on his face. 

“He’s not... Doing well, Harry... The birth is... complicated.” 

“Who’s Zayn?” Audrey asked, but Harry hardly heard her. A million feelings ran through him in that moment and sweat broke through the skin on his forehead. He felt like his was choking on his own breath. 

“Where is he?” 

“Payne’s. I ran... As fast as I could.” 

Now getting to Payne’s household as fast as he could was the only thought that occupied Harry’s mind. As he left his own house he heard his wife yell after him, but what she said, he never knew. 

When he arrived at the large wooden house Mr. Payne showed him to the boy’s room. 

“Harry...” Liam said laying a friendly hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eyes trying to get his attention despite the painfilled cries from the room just behind the door next to them, “It’ll all work out in the end.” 

Harry nodded and opened the door to face a dark room with a small bed in the middle of it. At the bottom of the bed a dark skinned woman sat between the boy’s spread out legs. 

Zayn was in no human condition Harry had ever seen before. The boy was covered in sweat which caused the white night shirt to glue to his chest and large belly. His hair was wet from sweat and it was covering his forehead, his mouth open and his eyes tightly shut in a painful grimace. The boy was gasping for air, crying and screaming in pain while he was grabbing onto the bed linned with a grip that was turning his knuckles white. 

“Here. You help.” The women by the foot end of the bed said motioning for Harry to come over to her. 

Between his lover’s legs was a sight Harry would never forget. 

“No come out. Stuck.” The woman then said and without giving it any further thoughts he kneeled down to face the situation. 

“Zayn...” Harry heard himself say as his hands cooperated with the woman’s. 

“Zayn, I’m here now. I’m here for you, to help you and look after you. We’re going to bring our child into this world together. You’re doing so well.” 

The woman said something in a foreign language and the moment after the boy was screaming again and clearly trying to push out the baby that Harry and the woman now tried to hold on to. 

Nothing happened. 

“Payne!” Harry yelled and the next second the man was in the room. 

“Call the doctor.” 

“Already did.”

“When?” 

“Long ago.”

“Then call again for God’s sake!” 

“I did. There’s no use.”

“At least bring some towels to cool him down!” 

Another contraction hit the boy and the same scene repeated itself. 

“I can’t...” Zayn cried. 

“Yes! Yes, you can. You can do this.” Harry felt sweat drip down his forehead. 

“Baby need out.” The woman said like she was the only one who had understood the seriousness of the situation. In any other situation Harry would have gotten annoyed and told her off, but in that particular situation it did not matter. 

Miraculously the next contraction brought upon change and after the following couple of contractions Zayn had given Harry a son. 

The baby looked tiny when the woman laid him by the breast of his birth father who was now crying tears of joy and relief. 

Harry had never seen anything as beautiful as the two human beings in front of him. His lover and his son.

Zayn looked properly at him for the first time that night. 

“Thank you.” He said. 

Harry gave him a comforting smile and gently moved the sweaty hair on the boy’s forehead aside. 

“Look what we made, Harry. Isn’t he precious?” The boy said as he gently caressed the tiny hand.

“He is... He is perfect.” 

“I wish we could be a family.” Zayn whispered and caused Harry’s heart to ache. 

“Did you mean what you said?” The boy asked looked up at Harry almost pleadingly. 

“What I said?” 

“Yes. At the party. I know you were drunk, but...”

“What did I say?”

The boy was quite for a while occupying himself with the baby he had just given birth to. 

“That you love me.” He then whispered. 

Harry swallow and gazed towards the Indian woman who was cleaning and tidying the room. 

“I...” He was looking for an excuse, a way out, but in that moment the baby opened his brown eyes for a split second and he changed his mind. 

“I do love you.” 

A gentle smile crept upon the boys face while he was still admiring his son. 

“I love you too. I really do.” The dark eyes met Harry’s own again and he felt relieved. 

“Will you hold him?” 

And Harry could only nod.


	5. Chapter 5

Zayn was silently crying clenching the few days old baby to his chest as he refused to look up to meet the many eyes for which he was the center of attention. 

“You must talk some sense into the boy, Harry! Any sensible human being can see that this is how it must be settled! I refuse to put my good reputation at risk because my incompetent son has had an affair!” 

Sir Styles was pacing back and forth in the room being the only one who was standing up. His face was redder than Harry had seen it for a while and his hair a mess. The man took a large swig of his whiskey almost drinking it all in one go. 

As usual Lady Styles did not have anything to add to the conversation. She was staring at the clothed table probably fumbling with the rings on her fingers underneath the table. 

“You’re not taking my child away from me!” Zayn cried still not looking up. 

“You will have no choice. Not a single penny of mine will go to that bastard and unfortunately for you Harry’s money ARE my money!” 

“Zayn and the child can live with us. He can continue the job as our servant and if any unforeseen expenses should appear we would be able to make a financing agreement.” Liam tried, but the offer was quickly dismissed by Audrey who would live nowhere near the whore. 

“Harry, say something!” Audrey demanded. 

“Very well...” Harry spoke, clenching the arms of the chair, “the child will be sent away to live with a foster family. One that I see fit. Zayn and the child will stay with the Payne’s for as long as it takes to find such a family and Zayn will then leave.” 

“No! No please, Harry!” Zayn was loudly crying now tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked directly at Harry, pleading him to let him keep his son. Their son. 

“Have some dignity, boy.” Audrey hissed. 

Harry was staring back into the dark eyes. He knew that his own heart would ache the way it was in that moment for the rest of his miserable life. 

“There is no other way...” Harry mumbled as he got up from his chair. 

The room was finally silent as he walked over to his distressed lover to show him out of the house. He stood there behind the chair waiting for the boy to move. It seemed like forever before Zayn acknowledged his defeat and slowly got up holding onto his son as if he was holding onto his dear life. 

The baby was miraculously still sleeping by the swollen chest of his birth father. He was such a delicate creature with his long fingers, already thick black hair and long lashes. Harry could feel a lump in his throat as he kept his hand away from the face of his son. 

“Zayn, you must try to understand...” Harry said as they walked down the corridor. 

The boy snorted. “But I don’t! I really don’t. You said you loved me. You said you loved him.” 

“Love and reason do not go hand in hand.” 

“It could...” 

“Not in our case.” 

When they reached the front door Zayn stopped to look up at Harry. 

“I shall never forgive you.” 

And then the boy and the baby was gone, and Harry went back down in the dumps. He no longer got up in the mornings, and he no longer bothered to get himself drunk everyday. He just laid in the large bed staring at the ceiling. 

Maybe the hours turned into days, Harry would not know. He did not care. 

Imaginations of his son occupied his otherwise empty mind. He imagined how the boy would grow up, what he would look like and what he would care for. The boy would be clever, Harry was sure. He would have a lovely and carefree smile resembling his birth father’s. He would get a proper education and live a decent life. However, Harry knew all those thoughts and wishes would only come true if the child was sent away. Zayn had a good heart, a mother’s affection for a child, but no means to support it. Harry himself would fail as a father just like his own father had, and Audrey would never forgive the child for his existence. 

He had no choice but to send the child away. Out of love Harry reached the day where he could no longer postpone the matter of a foster family. 

Mr Payne was in his office which Harry was led to by one of the maids. 

“Payne, I need a good family for the child.” 

Liam Payne looked up from his study desk wearing a slim pair of classes with a cigar in the corner of his mouth and papers in his hands. 

“For your son, you mean?” 

Harry poured himself a drink and took a seat opposite of Payne.

“Suit yourself...” Payne mumbled as he put away his papers and glasses. 

“Have you been looking?” 

Harry snorted, “I have been in bed.” 

“Good thing I have then. I have a good friend, Mr. Thompson. He and his wife have not been gifted with children of their own and it appears they never will. They are very much capable of and interested in bringing up your son.” 

“And where do they live?” 

“They just moved here for business.” 

“And they don’t mind that he’s... The colour of his skin?” 

Mr. Payne took a long puff on his cigar while looking most thoughtfully at Harry. 

“No, I don’t believe so. I have mentioned the fact, of course, and there has been no reaction. Clearly they know who your father is and they know about the wealth of your family. That is what matters in this cases.” 

Harry found himself nodding his head while staring out of the window. 

“It’s settled then.” 

Harry could hear Payne sigh, “Listen, Harry...” Mr Payne had never called him by his first name before. Harry strongly doubted it was appropriate. 

“I do not agree with this decision that you and your family have made. I‘ve seen Zayn with the child for a few months and the bond between the two is... Well, any bond between a birth giver and a child is special. I do not believe that you yourself don’t...” 

“Stop it.” Harry heard himself say quite harshly as he stood up. “I will not hear it, Mr Payne. This is none of your business! See to that I get in contact with this Mr Thompson, thank you.” 

Like he had arrived, Harry left the house in a hurry, but what the point was in hurrying he was not sure. All he had to look forward to was getting in touch with this Mr Thompson. 

Over the phone Mr Thompson appeared to be a tactiurned man. He and his wife had moved to India because of business like Harry and his wife had. They were unable to have children and he had a decent income. Harry assumed that was enough for him to go through with his decision. 

“I take it that next week will be suitable?” Mr Thompson’s raspy voice asked at the other end of the line. 

“Yes. Yes, next week is suitable.” 

“Very well. My secretary will be in touch.” 

Before Harry had a chance to reply or say goodbye the line was cut off. He sat stared out the window for a while. The sun was setting and the sky was red. Harry thought India was a beautiful country in many ways, but he missed England. He missed the clouds, the wind and the rain. He missed a climate which supported his depression. 

His thoughts made themselves become more miserable until they were interrupted by loud voices coming from the other end of the house. 

As he left the study and walked towards the living room he could hear his wife’s voice, “... If you think you’re ever going to get a penny of our money... If you think he’ll have you over this, what he got here with me, with his wife, then you’re more stupid than I thought!” 

As Harry crossed the corner and entered the large hall he came face to face with a situation in which is lover desperately tried to make his baby stop crying with an almost wild expression on his face as his wife’s red face was not very far away from the young boy’s. 

“Audrey, I’ll manage from here.” 

“I will not have him here! Not in my own house.” 

“I said, I’ll manage.” 

Audrey gave Harry a look that could kill. At least it could kill whoever cared. 

“Harry. Harry, please... He’s crying non-stop. I am going mad! He’s sick and I must have some money to go see the doctor so that he can get better and I can get peace!” 

Harry found himself almost shocked by the bluntness of the boy’s confession and the boy’s frustration which had clearly reached a level at which he had given up on his pride. 

They had not seen each other for a few months, not since the decision was made. Harry could only imagine what it had been like for the boy to take care of an infant all alone while maintaining his job at the Payne’s household. He could only imagine that it must have taken all Zayn’s will to stay away from him that long, to not ask for help. Just like it had taken all of Harry’s to stay away. 

“I beg of you!” Zayn interrupted his thoughts. 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” 

In that moment Harry was glad that he always carried his wallet on him. 

“I assume this will do.” He said and offered Zayn money. The boy looked at the banknotes with wide eyes. 

“It’s too much, Harry.” 

“Well, get him some new stuff for the rest. I have arranged for the foster family to come get him next week.” 

“No...” Zayn looked up at him. “No! It’s too soon. You can’t take him away from me!” 

Tears ran down the boy’s dark cheeks as he clenched the baby even closer to himself as he started moving on the spot almost manically.

“You don’t have what it takes to raise a child. It’s better this way.” 

“Harry, no...” Zayn cried, “I beg of you.”

Harry sighed and his heart hurt. 

“Next week. You need to leave... Now.” 

“You can’t make me! You can’t take my child away from me!” 

Harry went to open the front door to show the distressed boy that he was serious and not changing his mind. Without another word Zayn walked pass him and out the door. 

For the first time in a long, long time Harry sat down and cried. He sat on the floor with his face in his hands in front of the door and cried like he had never cried before. 

People said that crying was good for a person. It eases the mind and comforts the soul, they said. However, Harry did never trust people. 

One stream of tears was taken over by another and so it continued. For how long he did not know. 

He would have loved to think that the following week went by fast, but then he would be lying to himself. The days were unbarebly slow, long and painful. 

He was not out of bed or off the bottle before the day arrived. An agreement had been made in which the Thompsons would meet Harry, Mr Payne and the child at the Payne’s. Zayn was not welcome since nobody was interested in causing a scene. 

It was not that he had not noticed the dull feeling in his stomach or the pain in his heart. Nor had he not sparred himself for imagining the situation over and over again in his many days in bed. 

It was simply just the fact that there was no way that he had been able to imagine that he would be standing there with a baby, his first-born son, in his arms because the Payne’s household was a mess. 

It was the fact that his son had the same dark skin as his birth giver. The fact that the little hands and fingers were reaching out into thin air, and, of course, the fact that Harry felt nothing but admiration and love towards the creature that he knew so little of. 

So the fact that Liam Payne was the one to offer him a way out did not come as much of a surprise in the end. 

Harry could make a choice. He was for the first time in his life able to choose a future in which he was happy. All he needed to do was to take the tickets in Liam’s hand, find Zayn, and walk away without looking back. 

However, there was a great deal of comfort in knowing what the future would bring upon him if he stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue is the next update! I hope you have enjoyed the story and the updates as much as I have enjoyed writing them. Constructive feedback and thoughts are appreciated. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

Harry was sweaty as he was walking home from work that day. He always did, but that particular day the sun seemed to burn more than usual this time of the year. 

He had to walk a good three miles to get to work and back home, but it didn’t bother him. Though the days were long and working at the mill was tough, he enjoyed being alone with his thoughts before returning home. 

He often thought back to the day which turned his life upside down. Liam had looked him in the eyes and offered him two tickets for the ship to America as he was about to give his son away. He had taken the tickets. Taken Zayn and his son with him and started a long, dangerous and exhausting journey with nothing but some cash in his pockets. 

Edward, as they called their son, had been too small and fragile for the journey and had fallen ill. It had not been uncommon for babies and little children to lose their lives on the trip. They had seen it several times through the months in which they had travelled. After countless sleepless nights their son had recovered and the worst part of it all seemed to be over with. 

That was until they had arrived in New York and needed a place to live. 

Though the land lots were cheap the number of available ones did not match the demand of the thousand and thousand of people who was trying their luck in the land of fortune. 

After living in different dilapidated rooms all over the city, Harry had met another lad, Louis Tomlinson, from Doncaster in England. Louis had a friendly smile and after a long, tipsy talk at the nearst pub the fellow Englishman had told Harry, that he was a craftsman and that he was more than capable of helping Harry building a house for him and his family. Harry had not thought much of it, but when Louis had shown up at their adress offering Harry his help once again, he took the lad up on his offer.

It turned out that Louis had a cousin who owned a small lot of land on which Harry and his family could build their house. The house was built in wood and consisted of one large room with a bed, a table, a stove, a fireplace and a loft made of tree where Edward and his future siblings would sleep. It was modest and far from what Harry had been used to, but it was a price he was willing to pay for his own and his family’s happiness. 

To pay off Louis’ cousin, since they had had no money to pay for the lot, Harry had taken a job at the cousin’s mill which hardly left him with an income after he had paid his monthly feed to cousin Tomlinson. Personally Louis had never asked for money and Harry was thankful for everything he had done for them. The lad was now a dear friend of the family.

All that was five years ago.

Five years ago Harry had still been in his 20’s, but that same day he was walking home he turned another year older. Zayn was now 22 and a busy housewife who earned a bit of money by watching after the neighbouring children, who had lost their mothers, in the working hours. 

Harry was brought back to reality by his own three children whom all came running towards him - Edward a lot faster than his little sisters. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Alma, who was a year younger than her 5-year-old brother, yelled. 

Though the little girl without doubt did all she could to get to Harry as fast as possible, she was easily overtaken by Edward who had a big smile plastered to his face. Little Abigail, the youngest at two, was running after the two others. 

Harry’s heart longed for the warm welcoming every single day, and he felt certain that the day the children would be old enough to stop doing it would be the day his heart broke. 

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Edward proclaimed as Harry kneeled down to hug his son. The two girls followed suit and soon Harry’s embrace was full. 

“Children, be good to your father! He’s had a long day.” Zayn said as he appeared in the door. 

The boy was no longer a boy, but a beautiful young man who was carrying Harry’s fourth child. Harry knew that their lives were getting more and more troublesome as he kept putting children into his lover, but it was simply not something he could keep away from. Zayn had always been a blessing and a curse, and as long as he would let Harry, the man was going to give into his desire towards his lover. 

When the exotic man stood in front of Harry, he leaned in to lay a kiss on Harrys dusty lips. 

“Hello, my love.” 

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Happy birthday.” Zayn smiled and his smile was the prettiest one Harry had ever seen. 

Just like in Harry’s own case a great burden had been liftet of Zayn’s shoulders when Harry had choosenthem as his and Zayn’s future. He was sure it was the best decision he would ever make. 

“They’re so excited to wish their daddy a happy birthday with cake and even a gift.” 

“‘Ift!” Was all Abigail managed to say as she was reaching for her pregnant papa to lift her up. 

“A gift? And cake? My God, I can’t wait!”

“I can’t wait either!” Edward half-yelled before storming back into the house. 

Taking Alma’s hand and making sure the rest of his family was following his lead, Harry went inside. His lover had obviously been busy cleaning and baking an apple pie for the occasion. 

Edward was more than pleased when he gave Harry his birthday gift which turned out to be a cigar. Harry knew Zayn must had been saving up to buy it, and for that he was more than greatful. 

“We thought you deserved that.” Zayn smiled with a hand gently resting on his pregnant belly. 

“I‘m thankful.” 

Harry kissed Alma’s forehead, “thank you”, then kissed Aibigail’s hair “thank you” and messed his son’s hair up with his hand which made the boy shriek “and thank you, little man.” 

“And now to the pie. The highlight of my pregnant day.” 

“I love cake, daddy!” Alma exclaimed causing Harry to laugh. 

“Yes. Yes you do, my love.” He said and padded the girl’s head. 

The family was quick to finish the pie before Zayn got up to warm the soup he had made for supper. 

“We‘ve received a telegraph from Liam. He’s writing that Mrs. Payne just gave birth to a little daughter and that they plan on moving here, to America, within a few years.” 

“Oh, really?” The news were a pleasant surprise. “Hasn’t he settled in with his latest job at that law firm?” 

“He didn’t say, but don’t you think so? He’s very good at dealing with change that man.” 

And that was more than true. After Zayn and Harry had left the country Liam had quit his job at Sir Styles’ company losing both his house and his income. It had been completely reckless in Harry’s opinion at the time, but as Zayn said, some things were important enough not to be selfish about. It turned out Liam had great luck with finding a new job, and he had been working for several big companies since then. 

“Well, I wish him the best. Do send him my best regards when you reply.” 

“I always do, love.” 

The rest of the evening went by as usual. When the children had been put to bed and the dishes were done Harry found myself laying in bed watching his lover undress in the dim candle light. His chest was swollen above his bulging bellly, his hips wider from giving birth several time, but his ass as smooth as ever.

“You‘ve always looked lovely bearing my children.” 

A gentle snort was all Harry got as a respond before his lover laid down beside him. 

Like countless times before they laid side by side letting the silence between them fill the air. 

“Harry?” 

“Yes, love?” Harry answered and turned his head to meet the eyes that only seemed darker in the dark room.

“Are you satisfied with your life as it is now? Here, with me and the children?” 

“What makes you ask me that?” 

“I was just wondering. I know it’s different from your upbringing.” 

Harry reached out to touch his face. 

“It is...” He stayed silent for a moment as if he was considering his answer which he was not. His answer came very naturally and maybe it was the naturalness of his life that took him by surprise. 

“Before we travelled to America I didn’t have much of a life at all. Back then it seemed as if I lived my life only to please others, when instead I lived a very selfish life. I didn’t care for anyone but myself. I used to think that if people around me would forgive me and my misery then that was enough - then I didn’t have to change, but I have changed, haven’t I? I live for others now, and I have forgiven myself. That is all I need. My family, your love and my own forgiveness.” 

Though the room had turned shades darker Harry could tell that Zayn was smiling. 

“I‘m happy, my love.” Harry said and reached out to gently touch the face of his lover. “Are you?” 

“I’m happy too.” 

“But do you want to know what make me even happier?”

Zayn gently laughed probably already knowing what he was going to say, “do tell me.” 

“To make sweet love to my sweet partner.” 

“I knew you’d say that.” 

“I knew, you knew”

“You are so silly, Harry. What about the children? Do you think they’re already asleep?” 

“I’m sure they are, love.” 

A moment passed in which the pregnant man seemed to make up his mind before he sat himself up on his lover’s crotch. 

“Well then, I guess there’s no way back now that I’m here.” 

“I’m not complaining.” Was all Harry got to say before Zayn pressed their lips together in a heated kiss. 

His hands started roaming the exotic man’s body. His soft thighs, the hips, the round belly and his swollen chest. Silent moans could be heard coming from his partner as Harry continue caressing him. 

“Let’s get naked.” Harry whispered and got a nod in reply. 

Zayn was the most beautiful creature Harry had and would ever see, he was sure of that. The way he moved so elegantly was like no one else Harry had ever known. 

When his lover sat himself back up on Harry’s lap, but faced away from him so he could witness his hard manhood slide home between the soft ass cheeks, he could only let out a long approving moan. 

Zayn knew exactly how to tear him apart and put him back together. The way the dark skinned man would lean forward and grab Harry’s thighs as he kept a steady rhythm would drive any man insane. 

Silent moans would escape from Zayn’s mouth once in a while, and add fuel to the fire that was burning inside Harry. It felt like Harry only excisted in the form of physical pleasure as he watched his pregnant lover take every inch of his manhood. 

When the familiar feeling of his sweet release got close he made sure to get his lover onto all four as he stood on his knees behind him and thrusted deep into the other man while jerking him off. 

Zayn reached his orgasm seconds before Harry felt his own take over his body. They both came with a silent cry as Harry did his best not to put too much weight onto his lover. 

“I’m never going to get enough of this.” He heard himself whisper as he laid a kiss on the dark shoulder in front of him and pulled out gently. 

“It was lovely.” Zayn smiled and move some hair away from Harry’s sweaty forehead. “But It’s becoming more and more difficult. I guess I should be used to it. I seems like I’m always pregnant.” 

Harry laughed at that and answered, “at least we make wonderful children.” 

“Yes, we do.” 

“I love them, and I love you.”

“Just like we love you.” Zayn whispered close to his ear before a gently kiss was laid on his cheek. 

“Sleep now, my love. It has been a long day. I will see you tomorrow.” 

With his lover’s comforting words in his ears, his children’s snoring in the background and a smile on his face, Harry fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was it! I wanted the last chapter to be a peaceful one with a sum up and nice ending. I hope that you’ve all enjoyed this whole fic. 
> 
> I appreciate that you guys have been reading it, and I also appreciate the feedback that has been given throughout the whole process. Thank you. 
> 
> See you around!


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